


The Ice King

by darknessesmistress95



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-11 23:37:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7075372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darknessesmistress95/pseuds/darknessesmistress95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elrond's youngest has to marry to keep the peace. Really just an idea that has been in my head for a really long time, questions, comments, reviews, are all appreciated, super excited about this, I feel I have a lot of space to go with it, so lets go on an adventure shall we ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

My eyes widened in shock, my father couldn’t possibly mean this could he? I had to marry him? The Ice King… my father didn’t even like him! I wanted to sob, my sister looked at me in horror, and I couldn’t stand it! It was all so unfair, Arwen got to marry the man she loved, my brothers were free to do as they wished; so why, why me? I wasn’t even the oldest. My dark eyes turned misty and I struggled to speak. “If you wish, father. May I be dismissed please?” My father’s eyes darkened with concern and guilt but he voiced none of it, giving only a curt nod he turned away. I took my chance to escape before my siblings could smother me with sorrow and pity.   
Tears stained my face when I finally returned to the Palace. I was doomed to a lifetime of being married to a cold distant man who could not love. How had he even agreed to this?! It is common knowledge the elvenking hasn’t been the same since the death of his wife Celeste, it was also common knowledge that he hated my father and probably the whole family. He looked down on us for our mixed blood. I remember his cold blue eyes boring into mine as he sneered the word “halfling” so many years ago. There was also the fact that he was unforgivably intimidating. I have had very few experiences with the cold man, but his prowess in battle is legendary. Not to mention he was beautiful. An ethereal vision, not seeming of this realm, silver hair that needed no adornments to be breathtaking, eyes that seared your soul, heavy brows that only accented his harsh personality, and perfectly crafted lips. When I was younger and foolish I used to dream of kissing those lips, of breathing some life into the cold unfeeling creature. My cheeks reddened at the thought of such nonsense. Sighing heavily I flopped onto my stomach and groaned. There would be no sleep tonight.  
“Mira” a voiced breathed into my ear, I groaned, placing the pillow firmly over my head, ignore it, when you ignore children they go away right? Right? No. Arwen huffed, “are you finished?” She snapped. “What do you want Arwen?” Her dark eyes softened, “Mirabelle, I’m, I’m sorry, she sighed sadly. I know this isn’t what you wanted, not what you dreamed of, it’s not what I had hoped for you either. I dreamed that you would have something like me and Aragorn, instead you get an ice cold king with a frozen heart. Also, I think you are younger than his son!” She giggled childishly. Raising my head from my pillow I glared at her. “You aren’t helping” I muttered. “I had hoped I would wake up and it would be a dream, some cruel trick my mind played on me, maybe some remnant of my past infatuation with the older man.” Instead I’ll have to leave Rivendell, leave father and you, our brothers, the valleys and open meadows, with the sun, and the moon, and all the fresh air, to live in a sickly forest in an underground kingdom, separated from the world. I’ll be married to a man who could never love me, who would refuse to try.” My green eyes lifted to meet her, misting over slightly, I have all of eternity to be resented for existing, what if he hates me?!” Panic rises in my heart, could I endure constant hate for thousands of years? Will I sleep alone at night? Will I be a pawn, wheeled out for convenience? I look to Arwen for help, sensing desperation she wrapped her arms around me, singing in elvish to a song she knows we both love, I sob hard into the familiar comfort of my sister, I was going to lose this soon, lose my family, my home, this heartbreakingly familiar comfort of a place that has always been home. A place I knew like the back of my hand, from every stream, to the wide meadows that would bloom beautifully with wild flowers, the creatures that would sing their songs to the heavens, a symphony orchestrated by Eru himself.  
I was staring into the mirror, taking in my reflection, I have my mother’s eyes, or so I’ve been told, wide and green, small flecks of gold floating in them like a sea. They had always been my favorite feature about myself. They are also the reason I can’t lie. The emotion would always play acrossed my eyes like words on the pages of a book. Sighing, I looked over the rest of me. I had the same long dark hair as my sister, but I always had mine in a braid, simple, but elegant. I had dusky skin unlike the pale skin of my family, and handful of freckles sprinkled across my cheeks and nose. I wasn’t as thin as the rest of my kin, featuring wider hips, and fuller breasts. I never liked my body much. It screamed half elf to me, despite my beautifully pointed ears. My father had always tried to assure me that being a halfling was nothing to be ashamed of, but I couldn’t help it. I would eye the full elves of Rivendell with jealousy, envious of their lithe frames and dainty features. “Lady Mirabelle,” a servant tore me from my thought. “Yes,” I said a little harsher than I meant to. Nevertheless, the servant continued, “your father wishes to see you, I’m to dress you.” I raised my eyebrows, “I’m to be dressed for a simple meeting with my father?” “It is my lord’s wish” she answered vaguely. I sighed, knowing she would not disobey him I agreed.   
My anxiety continued to rise when I was dressed in a flowing forest green gown, golden bangles put on my wrist, and a silver circlet placed upon my head. I watched the servant with frantic eyes as she painted berry juice on my mouth, and braided my hair into an elaborate rose design. “This seems a little excessive, I whined, silently pleading with her to explain more.” She just sighed and gazed at me warily, pity crinkling her eyes.  
I was escorted to my father, which was odd, I was usually free to roam… Then I spotted it, a very large, very tame looking elk was in the stable next to the other horses. A cold sweat trickled down my back… He can’t be here, he’s not here… He’s not right… “Is Thranduil here?!” I practically screamed at the guard, he just looked at me sideways, oh gods help me, is that pity again. I was gulping air and looking for an escape route when the guard took my arm and led me into the great room.   
If I don’t open my eyes I don’t have to face this, I thought to myself. Eventually my rational side took over, and I slowly opened my eyes. My father was giving me a tired, and once again guilty look. I looked around, scanning, searching for the cold eyes, silver hair, elegance that I expected. There, there was was. He was standing, staring at me, steel eyes cutting into me, mouth set in a hard line. Yep he hated me. Fuck! How do I fix this? I give him a tentative smile. He raised his harsh brows and narrowed his eyes a bit. Okay, that didn’t work. Shit, I looked at my dad, he sighed and led me over. “Lord Thranduil, this is my youngest. Mirabelle.” Pretending I wasn’t terrified I sank gracefully to my knees, hoping to appeal to his ego. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, your majesty. My voice sounded shaky and I cringed at the noise. When I finally looked up, he was staring down at me, looking almost intrigued. “So, the half-elf knows some manners, his voice arrogant and harsh. Shame creeped across my face, I wanted to hide. This would be my life, this broken man. I sighed, “The half-elf tries your majesty, though I could never compare to you I’m sure,” flashing him a brilliant, ditzy smile he looked taken aback. My father cleared his throat getting both of our attention, “About this wedding”...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some drama occurs. The king is not sympathetic. Feelings ensue.

The wedding was to be had at Mirkwood. Of course it was. Any happiness I was feeling from sassing the Elvenking vanished. Now I look at him with poorly concealed resentment. He couldn’t allow me to have it here? After all we would be living in Mirkwood, I am already leaving everything behind, why can’t I have it here. Where would we even have it in Mirkwood? Underground?! Why not marry a dwarf then?! I’ve heard Fili Durin is available! Groaning and staring down at the ground angrily, I see Thranduil’s cape swish out to the side, I almost laughed but the murderous expression on the King’s face stopped me short. Gulping, I look down, only to have surprisingly strong fingers yank my chin back up. Eyes of steel looked like they were trying to challenge me to say one word, and I wish the floor would swallow me. Or Eru would choose that time to claim my immortality. Eyes wide with fear I tried to meet his gaze and failed. Unable to move my head I lowered my eyes and felt blood rushing to my face. We stayed in that awkward pose until he regained some control of himself. Rubbing my face, I angrily muttered “Mind telling me what that was about?” “ What is wrong with Mirkwood?” he growled at me. “N-nothing, I’m just not used to it, I just… This is so much so fast.” Fuck me are those tears on my face?! Sighing I wipe my face with my hands and try to settle down. Looking back at the Elvenking all I see is a cold expression, eyes narrow and calculating. “If that was a show to soften me, it will not help half-elf. The wedding will be in my realm, agreeing to meet you here was kindness only; and allowing your father into Mirkwood is the most generous I am willing to be.” Turning away abruptly, his cape swishing gracefully he descended the step. He paused only once, looking back, contempt plain in his beautiful eyes, he stated in his usual icy tone “any queen of mine will not weep. Not even a lowly halfling queen.” Waiting patiently until he was out of sight, I slid down the wall and sobbed.

“Father please! He’s horrible, he’s cruel, my whole life is going to be spent in the presence of a man who hates me!” I could feel the tears falling, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I knew in my heart this was pointless, I had to marry this man, it would be selfish not to, peace depended on it. But I couldn’t help myself. Not for the first time I wished I was just a commoner. With concerns like crops, or finding love, not marrying an icicle for peace. My father looks tired. His brown eyes staring deep into mine, as if begging me to understand. Sighing I wiped my face and nodded. “When do we leave?” “Tomorrow” his voice sounds regretful. “Tomorrow?! We all have to be ready by tomorrow?! My father eyes looked sad again. Feeling sweat start to form on my brow and a sense of dread in my stomach, “Father… You are coming with me right?! Thranduil said you could come, please I need you!” Tears were threatening again. “I am coming. Just me. Thranduil has made it clear he doesn’t want any more of our kind than necessary. I’m so sorry Mira. I know you want Arwen to be there.” Now I was mad. “Arwen will be there father.” I whirled around. I had to do this fast or I would loose my nerve.

I approached his door, palms sweaty, I meant to march right in, show I mean business but of course his guards stop me. “I need to see my future husband” I said, voice cold and commanding. They were silent, I stood there, unsure of what to do, and then, In an elegant swoop they stepped aside. Feeling much less brave than I had been seconds before, I tentatively took about four and a half steps into the room. “Yes?” His voice came out of nowhere and I jumped. He was standing at the balcony, his back to me. His pale hair glimmering in the moonlight. He was beautiful. “Umm, I was hoping to maybe talk about our wedding.” I cringed at my own words. No wonder he didn’t take me seriously, I sound like a child. He cocked his head slightly, “what else can there possibly be to talk about? I think we have covered everything adequately.” Annoyance. He was annoying. I wanted to peg something at his head, but knew that definitely wouldn’t help the situation. Setting my jaw I took a deep breath, “I would like my sister there. Please.” “Very well.” I open my mouth to argue, and then realize what he said. “Very well…? Oh um… thank you” I didn’t believe him, he wasn’t nice. This is a game, a trap, soon he’s going to be mean, I just knew it. I wish I could see his face. “Sure. Your sister can take your father’s place.” Oh. So it was a trap. Well I’m not giving up that easily. “My lord, It would please me greatly if they were both there. Since I am already agreeing to this wedding, and to having it at Mirkwood, I think it’s only fair that I am allowed to have them both there. He laughed. He laughed? That can't be good. Looking up I nearly jumped out of my skin, once again his eyes were mere inches from mine. What the hell was he doing? Was he going to kiss me? No, more like stab me. That’s much more likely. Wouldn’t that be ironic. Stabbed by the grumpy groom. I wanted to laugh. Am I going crazy? Maybe. His eyes are so beautiful, I wonder if his lips are as soft as they… Focus Mira!! He may be trying to kill you! His eyes look amused, and he has the most irksome smirk that I have ever seen on his face. “First, I’m not a lord I am a king. Your father is a lord. You are not agreeing to anything. Your father sold you to me. You’re mine. You do not have the power to call off this wedding because you are a possession. A tool. You should be thankful. Usually half elves in your position are married to fat lords who want a shiny exotic plaything. You get to be a queen. Not a real queen, obviously. Mirkwood is mine, but considering the circumstances you are rather lucky.” Evil. That’s what he is. My mouth gaped open. He was right. I don’t have any real power. I look back up at him, that evil smirk still on his face. I nod curtly and turn to leave. There is nothing left to say. He stops me. Strong fingers on my wrist. I don’t pull away. What’s the point? He brings his face closer, what is he doing? Then his lips are on mine. I should pull away. This creature is evil. This is a power play. Why is he kissing me? Why am I kissing him back?! His lips are soft. The kiss is strong, demanding. It’s controlling. I run my fingers through his hair, it’s soft as silk. Like spiderwebs in my hand, delicate, but strong. I like this, I want to kiss him forever. I’m so foolish. This is a power move and I’m letting him do it. His hand is on the small of my back, I lean into him. When I open my eyes, his are staring right into mine. By Eru even his eyes smirk. He releases me and chuckles darkly. “Now you know just how soft my lips are." Without looking at me again, he dismisses me with a passive wave his hand. I am confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to happen. I really had to think about the characters, and how to keep this moving forward. Upating should be much more regular now! Any feedback is appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrival to Mirkwood, and a little conflict. Mainly a descriptive chapter with some Mira humor! Preparations for the wedding and some... suprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Any dragon age fans will notice that I stole some elven from the game series. Ir'abelas, means I am sorry. And Hahren means elder, basically someone older worthy of respect. Enjoy, and any feedback is appreciated.

“You are going to be there. I won’t leave otherwise.” Arwen is looking at me with an amused expression on her face. “You’re so stubborn Mira! That king doesn’t know what he is in for!” She laughs, but she looks sad; she doesn’t think I can convince him. I’m not even sure if I can. But I have a plan. When we leave I am going to take Arwen and get into his carriage. He’s too proud to cause a scene. Instead he’ll just yell at me when we get back Mirkwood. ... At least I hope I’m right. I need her. I am willing to do this, for her, for my family, but I need their support. I love them. It’s late, I need to go to bed, we will leave for Mirkwood early, and I know I won’t be able to sleep well. 

One of the tailors delivered my wedding gown earlier. It’s beautiful, a green so pale it’s almost white; the dress had long sheer sleeves, with a sash in to middle. Swirling designs danced around the bodice of the gown, meant to enhance the shape, and a long train swept gracefully around the floor. My father said it looks very much like the one my mother wore on her wedding day. I bet she was happier than me. Her groom loved her. Sighing I look around my room. This is it. The last night I will spend here. I’ve never even been to Mirkwood, though I have heard it is beautiful. The servants have packed for me. My whole life down to one carriage. 

 

People are tiptoeing around me. Treating me like a glass doll. It only makes me feel worse; if I get one more look of pity from the servants I am going to lose my mind. Closing my eyes, I try to sleep but there are a thousand worries buzzing through my head like swarm of angry hornets. Turning over with a flop, I stare into the darkness until sleep takes me.

“Mira! Mira! Miraaaaaaaa!” Ugh, what time is it. I’ve been asleep for a few seconds. Is that sunlight?! It is sunlight. Shit. I’m late. Cracking one eye open I look at Arwen blearily “what?” I’m cranky. And tired. And hungry. “He’s waiting for you! You were supposed to leave hours ago!” Oh. Damn it. I quickly dress in a simple gown, and tie my hair back into a braid. Thank Eru everything was packed last night or the Elvenking might have tried to kill me. “Are you packed Arwen?” She nods. I let out a deep breath, “Okay, let's go see if my plan will work.” It does. But he’s furious. There are too many people by the carriage to say goodbye. He won’t cause a scene, he’s too proud. But his eyes promise punishment as Arwen and I climb boldly into his carriage. “Let’s be off.” My voice is thick with emotion. It’s taking everything I have not to cry. But I won’t. I know he hates tears, and he is already outraged with me. I wouldn’t want to be murdered on the way to my own wedding. Thranduil climbs into the carriage and sits directly across from me. His eyes are terrifying. I can only hold his gaze for a few seconds before I look away. But he’s still staring. I can feel it. If looks could kill… “How long until we get to Mirkwood your majesty?” Arwen interrupts the silence. Or she tries to. He ignores her. Oh dear. Maybe he is going to kill me after all. I think it’s worth it? Maybe… 

Days. It takes days to get to Mirkwood. But it’s beautiful. When we entered the forest my eyes were wide with wonder. It was stunning. From the way everyone talks I had expected barren trees, and dead animals, but Mirkwood was very much alive. While it’s true there is a sense of ominosity that clings to the trees, it’s still breathtaking.   
I was in so much wonder that I had almost forgotten the purpose of coming there. And then there is it is. The entrance to Mirkwood. I want to run. Flee into the woods, but I know he’d catch me. And he was still silent. I was afraid to go in there. He was angry. Very very angry. 

 

The actual palace is beautiful. Spiralling pillars made of wood stretch to the ceiling, magical fire illuminates the large open rooms. And rising above it all was the great throne. It suited him, commanding and elegant. I was surprised at how empty it was, but didn’t dare ask. We were only there for a moment when several servants came out of the woodwork. An young elf with kind eyes approached me smiling nervously. “Your majesty, you must be exhausted after such a long journey. I will take you to your room.” I stared blankly at her. Did she just refer to me as majesty? Before I could open my mouth to answer her, my betrothed stepped in. “Mi’lady is more than adequate. She isn’t a queen yet. I shall escort her to our chambers. Take her sister and father to the guest suites, and have the cook start dinner.” Bowing low the servant nervously scurried away. WHAT THE HELL?! Did he say “our” chambers? Are we sharing a room already?! He was escorting me?! He’s definitely going to yell at me. He held out his arm. To an outsider it probably looked courteous. But I could tell. Giving him my arm he squeezed me just a little too tightly. The walk to his room was tense. But the worst was yet to come. Once inside I found my back immediately against a wall. His face inches from mine. Eyes wide with anger. “You disobeyed me. I told you only one of your family could attend and you manipulated me.” I just look at him. My eyes are wide. I’m afraid. “Please, your majesty, I just needed them. I was not trying to disobey, I just needed them. Ir’abalas hahren.” “This won’t happen again. There will be consequences.” And with a swish of his cape he stalked out of the room. I released the breath I was holding and took in my surroundings. His, our, room was beautiful. There was a marble bath in the corner that somehow had hot water in it. It looked clean and inviting. I will definitely make use of that later. The large bed in the center of the room was elevated. Silver covers were piled on the large mattress, and the bed itself was adorned in elk antlers and red berries; closely resembling the Elvenking’s crown. The room was softly lit by torches. I walked around slowly, coming across his belongings on a table. There were silver combs for his hair, charcoal to darken his eyes. A vial that looked like lip tint was held in a beautiful crystal glass. An ornate mirror was directly beside the table, and to the left was his wardrobe. I opened the doors, his clothing was beautiful. It had none of the simple elegance of Rivendell. His clothing was proud. Shiny silvers with gold threading, bold greens, long elegant capes, and knee high boots with shiny buckles made up his look. Opening the lower drawers I found his undergarments, blushing slightly I couldn’t help but look. They were silky, some shimmery, others matte, they were all soft to the touch and elegant. My blush darkened when I realized I was imagining the King wearing them. What is wrong with me?! Shaking off the embarrassment, I pulled open the bottom drawer, and gasped. There was a silver crown sitting on dark purple velvet. It was meant to come down the center of the person's forehead. The crown had elegantly carved tendrils of silver that swirled and danced around each other until they finally came together to support and emerald colored stone in the center. It was beautiful, and I definitely was not supposed to be looking at it. Hearing footsteps approach I quickly closed the door and walked to the center of the room. “Mi’lady” An elven servant called. She looked afraid. “The king would like your presence in the throne room.” Oh no. I didn’t want to see him again. He had just yelled at me. “Right now?” she nodded. “Okay. take me to him.” The throne was magnificent, and possibly over the top, not unlike the man sitting in it. “Yes, Thranduil?” I felt like being bold, I was marrying him soon right? His eyes narrowed slightly. Okay, maybe too bold. Can’t go back now. “I’ve taken the liberty of having a wedding gown made ahead of time. You shall back to our quarters to try it on, and then you shall come show me.” Oh hell no. I opened my mouth to argue, but he was way ahead of me. “I know you have had one made, but I have no doubt my tailors have made something more appropriate. Do be off now darling.” The tips of my ears burned at the term of endearment. But I was aggravated. “Of course, my love.” I blew a kiss and basically stomped back to our room. I did not look back. If I saw him smirk I may have tried to kill him, so I did not look back. Almost as soon as I had stepped foot through the door the servants were undressing me. Once I was in the dress I went to the mirror to look at it. It was… beautiful. An icy blue that resembled his eyes, it was sleek and hugged my figure all the way to the floor. The timid servant gave me a hesitant smile, “You look beautiful mi’lady” I smiled at her and looked back at my reflection. I did. The color complimented my dusky skin perfectly. And the dress complimented my shape. Low cut in the front, a modest amount of cleavage peeked out of the top of the dress. Fine silver chains accented the bodice, and wide long sleeves completed the look. It was gorgeous. And not mine. I should be upset that he wants me to wear this. I have a dress. And this one is too… sexy. I don’t feel like me. That’s the point I expect. He is making me what he needs me to be. The thought of standing in front of him in this makes me want to leap out of his balcony. “We should go to him.” My servant is right. I can’t imagine keeping him waiting is smart. “Ummm. Right. Like this?!” I could die. Everyone is going to see me. And they do. Guards turn their heads to look, people of the court smirk and raise eyebrows, some even start whispering! Oh lord help. I climb the stairs to his throne. This feels weird. Like I’m some prized animal being judged. “Your majesty?” Amara, my nervous servant, said quietly. “She is ready.” She practically had to pull me out from behind her, and when she did my gaze stayed firmly on the ground. We stayed that way for a few moments, until I heard his voice call my name. Looking up I was shocked to see his wasn’t smirking. Instead he was staring intensly, eyes looking up and down. Was it possible… Did he like what he was seeing? I held his gaze. “You’re beautiful.” What?! Did he just say that?! “Oh! Ummm thank you your majesty!” I squeaked. Literally squeaked. Great. He’s smirking again. He smirked darkly and dismissed me with a wave. “See you tonight Mira.” Help.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding! And some suprisingly fluffly Mira/Thrandy moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the wedding! I am proud of this chapter, and we finally see some growth from Thrandy. Feedback is always apprectiated. Hope you enjoy this longer chapter :)

My heart was pounding while I waited for him to come into our room that night. Amara had broughten me dinner, but I was far too nervous to eat. What was he planning? He words “see you tonight” seemed to promise something but what? Oh, I still think maybe I should just fling myself off the balcony. It would save us all a lot of trouble. I should find a hobby. Painting? No I suck at art. Sewing is boring. Maybe he would teach me how to fight? Hmm no. Nope he wouldn’t. But it would be fun. Maybe when I was queen I would be able to order one of his generals to train me. Yes that will do. Just as I was getting comfortable in my fantasy of being a badass female warrior who all fear and respect I heard fast approaching footsteps near the door. Gulping I knew it was him. No one else moved with such purpose. Walking into the room he barely looked at me. But I looked at him. He was tired. Sure he still looked beautiful, but I could see it. He closed his eyes tightly for a second, then smirked at me. “Mira. I trust you find your new quarters adequate?” Of course I did. But I just smiled and nodded. “Good.” I look away for a second, then I hear it. Clothes shifting. What is he doing. Should I look? I can’t look. Fuck it I have to. Oh god! I shouldn’t have looked. He was stripping. Literally stripping. I think I squeaked. Fucking squeaked. He smirked again. (Of course he did). I was entranced. He is perfect. He’s slender, but tightly toned muscles dance and ripple with every movement. Dance and ripple?! What the hell?! His chest was pale and hairless. Shadows enhanced the lines of muscle already there. How long have I been staring? Is my mouth open? Maybe… His hip bones were pronounced, sharp and angular. The skin there looked soft. What? Once he started to remove his breeches I had to turn away. Eru help me, what is happening?! Then I heard the water from the bath stir, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. So he wasn’t going to ravage me before our wedding. I wanted to laugh at myself. Of course he wasn’t going to do that. What the hell Mira. “Care to join me?” GULP. I squeaked again. I can’t even look over at him, never mind get in there with him!! I shook my head quickly. He laughed. He laughed?! I looked over quickly. OH MY GOD! He was unearthly. Some demon meant to steal my soul. An incubus. His silver hair glowed in the firelight. Long toned arms stretched out on either side of his body, like the wings of a raptor. He had that familiar smirk on his face but… his eyes seemed lighter, a little less serious. Had someone poisoned him? Why was he being nice. “I’m tired.” I’m pathetic. He raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t realize you had done so much today.” Chuckling darkly, he added “you are a horrendous liar Mirabell. You should work on that.” I should. I needed to change for bed. He was in the room. Do I change I change in front of him? Oh gods help. Taking a deep breath I pulled a nightgown out that he had provided for me. It was pretty enough. Shortish, but still covering. Mustering every ounce of courage I had, I pulled my dress over my head, and as quickly as I could I pulled the nightgown on. Removing my chest bindings, I breathed I sigh of relief as the wretched thing came off. Looking over at my future husband I was surprised to see he was staring at me. A strange look on his face. I tried to ignore it and climbed into the very large bed. Oh. my. word. If I never left this bed again it would be too soon. Groaning in happiness I flop into the downy heaven. He chuckled again. “Like it?” “Oh god yes.” Laughter now. “Good. You’ll spend a lot of time here.” What?! Was he flirting with me? Hearing the water splash, he must be getting out. I watched him dress. And by dress I mean he pulled on a pair on light undergarments and picked up a comb. “Can I do it?” What? Did I seriously ask to comb his hair? Great. He is going to be angry again, he will give me the angry face with the eyebrows and the swishy cape and-”Yes.” He handed me the comb. I smiled widely. I used to comb out Arwen’s hair when she was younger, but hers wasn’t near as pretty. It was so so soft. Like the finest silks. It smelled really nice too. I couldn’t help the feeling of childish excitement that washed over me. One of the deadliest creatures in middle earth, and I was combing through his hair. As I worked through any tangles I started to softly sing the elven song my sister and I love. It has always soothed me, and from the look of the knots in his shoulders it was obvious this man needed to relax. 

I have no idea how long we stayed like that. I just kept running the comb through his hair and singing softly. I was starting to hear a low noise, like a deep rumble. Could he have… No…. pressing my hand to his back I could feel the rhythmic rumbling, and hear the gentle breathing… I just sang the great Elvenking to sleep! I felt irrationally proud of myself. Okay. Now how do I move? Most of his weight was leaning back on me, and the last thing I wanted to do was wake him. Okay, I know, leaning to the side I slowly brought us both down until we were lying together, very very close together. This felt so… intimate. But he was warm, and between his even breathing, and the softness of the bed, I was asleep very, very quickly. 

Ummm… Where am I? Think Mira I try to sit up only to feel a weight across my chest and a sleepy groan protest the sudden movement. Looking down I see pale skin and silver hair spread across my chest and the mattress. Oh. Mirkwood. Right. Wait… Was I… Was Thranduil cuddling me?! He was. He definitely was. Oh good. Now I’m nervous. And strangely elated. Why was I so happy? I need a bath… Now might be my only opportunity. Slowly and carefully freeing myself from his limbs I tiptoe over to the bath. I was nervous. If he woke up I wouldn’t be able to hide, and that is terrifying. I got into the baths quickly, and immediately felt better. The water was warm, clean, and smelled of sweet berries and lilac. It feels so nice to have a moment to myself. The wedding was tomorrow. And it was starting to feel less daunting. Behind the arrogance and the smirks was a real person. A damaged person. But a person can be mended. Maybe… Maybe I can help. My thoughts were coming slower, and I felt my head dipping down…

A drawer opened and closed. Thud. Huh? Oh right, in the bath… Did I fall asleep?! Oh god. Blushing bright red I looked up and immediately saw Thranduil sitting at his desk, apparently deeply engrossed in a letter. I jerk upright and cover my chest, I can feel the heat rush to my face. Disturbed by the sudden splash of water, he looks over at me smirking. “Sleep well?” Please let me die. I’d like to drown in this tub right now. “Want some company?” I expected a smirk, but he was serious. Oh lord. “Ummmm I think if I stay in this bath any longer I am going to become a raisin.” He laughs. “You have a point. I put a robe right there for you. And yes. I won’t look.” I breath a sigh of relief and grab the the robe. It’s way to big, must be his. He is looking at me again. “You look good in that. I like it. The robe is mine, and the person wearing it is mine.” Oh. There was the Thranduil I knew and loved. Still, he is being nicer than usual, so I’ll take it. Looking at my clothes, I’m about to select a plain brown and green dress when he scowls. “My dear, you are a future queen. Not a peasant. Do try and look the part.” Yep. He sucks. “Of course, what would you like me to wear. Do come choose for me.” I bat my eyes at him in the ditziest way possible. I expected a scowl, but instead he raised an eyebrow. Rising gracefully he comes and stands next to me, surveying my clothing. He pulls out a silver gown with lace trimmings and long flowing skirts. Umm okay? I put the outfit on, and he nods. “Fit for a queen.” He turns me so that my back is facing him, and he starts to run a comb through my dark hair. “I know marrying me frightens you. And I won’t pretend the idea of being married again makes me happy. But there will be no tears tomorrow. I have been patient. If you embarrass me you will regret it.” He is braiding my hair as he speaks. Emphasizing certain words with tugs. “You will smile, you will be gracious, you will speak to the nobles, and look proud to stand next to me.” Spinning me around again, he grasps my face lightly. “Not. One. Tear.” I nod quickly. “Good.” He kisses my forehead. What? 

I decide to explore the castle. It’s my home now, and besides I want to see if Arwen wants to come with me. She does. Mirkwood is huge. As we strolled I told her my weird story from last night. About singing the king to sleep, and his passive aggressive message this morning. “Hmmm. Maybe he doesn’t hate you.” She is giggling. “Maybe… I would like it if he didn’t. Mirkwood is pretty.” “Yes. Unexpectedly so.” As we strolled down a hallway we found a room with two guards posted. “What room is this?” “The armory mi’lady.” “May we enter?” They didn’t answer, they just stepped aside. Upon entering I realize it must be the royal armory. Everything looks made of gold or mithril. Arwen immediately gets distracted by the craftsmanship of the swords, but it is a suit of armor in the center of the room that catches my attention. It’s black, with some silver engraving. There is a cape attached to the suit that has black feathers trailing down each shoulder, meant to look like wings. A pair of knee high black boots, and black gauntlets with silver claws complete the set. It appears to be made out of leather, but I can tell that it’s not. It has to be his. There are paintings depicting him wearing the same set of armor while battling various monsters. Usually dragons. The thought of him in this was… arousing… God, I’m losing my fucking mind. “Arwen I’m starving. Let’s go.” 

That night we are both in our room. There is a nervous unspoken energy, and I can tell we both feel it. Tomorrow is the day. “Are you nervous?” I’m hesitant about asking, but I want to know. He looks at me and cocks his head. “Yes.” “Me too.” He chuckles at that. “I know.” He walks over to the bed. He’s already dressed for it, then to my surprise he hands me his comb and sits in front of me. Yes! I wanted to ask, but didn’t want to risk annoying him. The simple task helps me to relax as much as him. And soon I hear his chest rumbling again. Smiling gently, I scoot out from behind him, I want to see his face. Without the stress, and smirks, and harsh words. I want to see if he looks peaceful while he sleeps, pushing his hair back I… Oh my… The right side of his face is severely scarred. Parts of the bone were shining through. There had been… whispers that Thranduil had been injured by dragons a few centuries ago, but when he returned he had looked fine. So no one believed the rumors. Looking down, a good portion of his chest and right arm were also scarred. I reached out and cautiously touched the skin, it was thicker on his arm. I felt no disgust looking at him. Instead I felt awe. He had survived so much… Snuggling back into the covers I found myself curling up to him, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t happy to be there. 

“Mira! Mira!” It was his voice pulling me out of my sleep. “What?” I sound like a frog. Awesome. “We need to start getting ready.” Oh. I was about to answer him when the doors to our chambers opened, and the oldest elf I have ever seen hobbled into the room. Elves hobble? “Joelhen. I have told you repeatedly to knock.” “And I have told you repeatedly to stop being late. Nobody listens in this place. They are waiting for you to leave so they can get the child ready.” Both Thranduil and I winced. “She’s not a child.” Thranduil was pressing his fingers into his temples. “Mhmmm. Sure. Get going your majesty.” Half expecting Thranduil to behead the ancient elf right there I shrunk into my covers and peaked. But alas the elvenking through up his hands and followed him out the door. Joelhen grumbling something about ungrateful children the whole way out.

Servants were on me in a instant. Plop, into the bath, scrubbed. Out of the bath, dried. Hair combed, braided into roses and curls. Eyes, lined. Lips tinted. They wrapped my chest in lacy bindings and put me into the most risque pair of undergarments I have ever seen. Then they put a strange lacy band around my leg and quickly got me into the blue gown. Instead of shoes they painted my feet and nails with silver and braided more flowers into my hair. Then it was time. I can’t breathe. His warning echoing in my head, “Not. One. Tear.” I exhale. And put a smile on my face. My father is waiting for me. He scrunched his eyebrows up at the dress I’m wearing but says nothing. He sees through the mask. “It’s okay to cry Mira.” “No, I’m forbidden, I can’t.” His face darkens with anger, but the music starts and it is time to go. 

On my way down the aisle I am amazed by the amount of elves. Some look impressed, I must be pretty enough. I pass. Others look at me with disdain, I hear plenty of “half-elf” being whispered. Some of the women, and a few of the men, even look jealous. It doesn’t matter. I keep my smile firmly in place, and take my place at his side. I finally gather the courage to look at him… And holy hell he looks beautiful. He was wearing black leather pants, with matching boots and silver buckles. His shirt was black, but he had a long silver coat, that cascaded elegantly all the way to the floor. Coal darkened his beautiful eyes, and his long silver hair fell down his back and over his shoulder. His crown sat proudly on his head, and I don’t think anyone has ever looked more like a king than this man. Looking down, I noticed the ring he usually wore on his left hand was missing. Oh. His old wedding ring. I grabbed his hand, and beamed at him. I couldn’t even tell if I was faking it, I didn’t have to fake being proud though. I was proud to be there next to him. He smiled back, either he was pleased with how I was acting, or he wasn’t completely miserable. 

The vows went smoothly, he promised to protect, I to obey, it was all very traditional. Now was the party. The mingling, the gifts, the small talk, this was what I was nervous about. We were soon seated to a feast, Thranduil sat at the head of the table, and I sat to his right. This is where I will always sit. No matter what. If we hate each other, if we don’t, if he dies, nothing. There is no way out of this. For a minute I am scared again, but it is too late for that now. Going through dinner I talked my way through several nobles, more than a few disguised jabs about me being a “halfling” and several jealous women. When I thought I couldn’t possibly be ably to take anymore Thranduil tapped his glass and stood. All eyes were on him. “We are here to celebrate an opportune bond, and peace between elves. While the night is still young, I would like to thank those who came, and to give my new Queen a gift.” Queen. Queen. Queen. I am a queen. His queen. The gift is the crown I had seen in his drawers. It was stunning. There were gasps and applause as he placed it on my head, “I made it myself” he whispered to me, lips grazing my ear. Goosebumps raised up on my arms and it was everything I could do to not blush like an idiot. “Your majesty, you are too generous. I shall cherish is always.” And I will. “I also have a gift for you my love.” His eyes widen momentarily at the term of endearment. I think mine do too. I stand and place a pendant around his neck. It was pure starlight. Dazzling white gems one only got from dealing with dwarves. I should know. I near had to sell my soul to get them to part with even a few. He looks taken aback. His gaze is strange and intense, I would kill to know what was going on behind those beautiful eyes. “Thank you, it is… most unexpected.” He likes it! I beam at him, waves of affection rushing over me… What is happening?!

The drinking, dancing, and overall merriment last for quite some time. I have danced with several nobles, a few princes, a few humans, my father, and a man named Philippe. I look up to see Thranduil sitting above the rest. Declining offers to dance, and looking rather lost in thought. Gathering some courage, I walk over to him and bow “Care to dance?” He looks surprised, and I am slightly taken aback when he takes my hand and leads me out to the dance floor. He is an amazing dancer. Of course he is. He is graceful, poised, the picture of elegance. As he leads me through several steps he leans close to speak. “You’ve done well tonight.” “Thank you” “Your happiness seems real.” “I think it is.” He cocks his head again. A familiar smirk on his lips, I’m starting to like that smirk. “Of course you are happy. You are in the presence of myself.” “Of course your majesty.” I smile, and we dance. 

The night is almost over. And while the wedding wasn’t unpleasant… I knew what tonight would bring. He did too. Though he didn’t seem all that terrified. I however felt like I could die. And as the night came to end, he found me. Hidden behind my sister, he had the most intense look on his face I have ever seen. He was silent when he took my hand, and he was silent as he lead me away.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding night! And all that follows with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter guys, but have no worry, the next one will be out either tomorrow or the day after, and it is longer. There is some sex in this chapter, nothing super explicit, but it's still in here.

My heart was racing. I was torn between desire and terror. Not that I thought he would hurt me, he proved to be...decent enough, but I have never done what is about to happen. Would there be pain? Blood? What if he hated the way I looked. He had been making comments of me being a halfling… What if my body was disgusting to him? But he said I was beautiful. His face holds nothing. The same intense look in his eyes, but he won’t look at me. He stares forward like a soldier, eyes hard, jaw tight, was he nervous? Why would he be nervous? He has done this before. Oh god, we are right in front of our room, there is not turning back; this is my...husband. Husband. I’m married. To the most attractive man in Middle Earth. For a moment a wave of childish giddiness washed over me, but the spell was quickly broken when he opened the door to our chamber. Alright, have to breathe. Can’t pass out. Breathe Mira! “You’re afraid.” His voice was low, he still looked intense, but not impatient. I wanted to deny it, to be brave, but I couldn’t. Between my shaking hands, and saucer-like eyes, he knew. So I nodded. “I won’t hurt you Mira. “I know.” Did I know? He took my hand and led me over to the bed. I am going to throw up. At least he’s handsome. I wanted to laugh, but he probably wouldn’t appreciate it. His hands moved to the ties of my gown, one pull and it’s open. All I have on is my lacy chest bindings, underwear, and weird leg thing. His gaze follows the curves of my body up and down several times. He doesn’t look disgusted. I gather some courage and reach out to unclasp the cape from his shoulders. He smirks. Of course he does. I like his smirk. He turns me around and unwraps the binding from my chest. Oh no… My face turns bright red and I immediately bring my hands up to cover myself. “Relax, you’re beautiful.” When I turn around to face him, he is shirtless. Gods he is handsome. My dusky skin makes his look even paler, we look good together. He kisses me. His lips are soft, but this time there is an urgency to his kiss. I feel his tongue on my lips, I open my mouth to him. It’s different. I tentatively touch my tongue to his. It’s strangely erotic. There is a warm feeling building in my lower stomach. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad… In one graceful motion he is down to his undergarments, and is back on me. Pushing me down into the bed, he clearly wants to lead. Be my guest, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. His lips are trailing kisses down my neck. Little gasps are coming out of my mouth, I blush again. What if I’m not supposed to make noises?! My eyes snap open, trying to see if I’ve made him angry. He was busy kissing my collar bones. “Stop worrying.” His voice was muffled against my skin. How was I supposed to “stop worrying?!” His hands are pushing my hands down, leaving my chest alarmingly exposed. Before I could fret too much his mouth is on my nipple, and I moan. I moan?! It feels amazing, my back arches involuntarily, hands are in his hair. He continues to do that for a few moments, then smirks up at me. I am breathing faster and my face is flushed. Oh he just looks so pleased with himself, bastard. Then he stands again. Wh- and he’s naked. I couldn’t help it, propping myself on my elbow I took a better look at him. All smooth muscles and hip bones, he was beyond gorgeous. Taking a breath I moved my eyes lower. His manhood is… big. Is that supposed to fit? He must have seen my worry. He chuckled, “it will fit, but you need to relax, lay down.” he kneels and positioned himself between my legs. “Open your legs.” Oh my god. My face was on fire, I blushed all the way up to my ears. He was impatient apparently, grabbing each thigh he gently pushed until my legs were opened enough. He made a low noise in his throat, a growl. I could feel him at my entrance. This was it, I scrunched my eyes closed, I could feel him sliding in, then there was a sting and a dull ache. Is that it? Where is that agony that I was promised? Why isn’t he moving? He looks… different. His face was flushed and was breathing heavy. His eyes were dark and half closed. “Are you alright?” his voice sounds strained. “I’m okay.” He grunts. Then his hips start to roll. There is a little pain, but it feels good. Okay really good. He seems to think so too, he’s growling, a deep rumble coming from the center of his chest. The faster he moves the better it feels, and suddenly I want to touch him. Everywhere. My hands grasp at his shoulders, back, arms, anywhere I can touch. My hips are moving to meet his thrust, and I’m moaning. Long, low moans that are drawn from my throat, I have no control over them. I bite into his shoulder, it seems like the thing to do. He growls in my ear again, he nails are dragging down my back, it stings, but it feels amazing. His hands are in my hair, it feels go-ow! He yanks it back sharply. I look at him in surprise, but before I can say anything he is kissing me again. He kisses are deep and urgent; when I kiss him back he bites my tongue, my gasp earns another deep growl. He’s biting me everywhere, down my neck, across my collarbones, on my breasts, it hurts, but in a good way. His thrusting is becoming erratic, fast and hard, then his whole body tensed. He bit into my neck hard and moaned. There was a delicious pressure built up, but I hadn’t cum. Whining I wiggle my hips up into him. He came back to himself and smirked. His fingers found just the right spot and the feeling became intense, almost too much… definitely too much, I jerked away from him. He held me. God he’s strong. With one arm wrapped around me, and my back propped against his chest, he continued moving his fingers, until, screaming, I went over the edge. The feeling was total bliss. I didn’t even know where I was for several minutes. When I finally came down I just stared at him. “What? Did you think I wouldn’t know what I’m doing?” I laughed, “I thought it was supposed to hurt? Everyone said there would be pain.” “There can be. Everyone is different. I was trying not to hurt you. But come, we need a bath, I think my back is bleeding and you are...sticky.” I was sticky, especially...down there. The bath was warm, and soothed the aching, and the stinging bites. As we washed we were silent. But the silence was comfortable, I was tired. My eyes dropped. I dressed in front of the mirror. Bruising were forming down my neck. Evidence of his teeth. I was strangely fond of the marks. He appeared behind me. Pale hands stood out against the darker skin of my belly. He was marked to, not as numerous as mine, but a few bruises blossomed on his arms, and his back was indeed scratched. It was kinda, exhilarating. He was a king! And he was mine! He doesn’t love me. I know that, but it's not unpleasant, being around him has proven to be… nice. He laid down and pulled me to him. I was soon coaxed into sleep by his smell and the beating of his heart.


End file.
